


Bruises

by Aelfay



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Don’t copy to another site, Fandom Trumps Hate, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19154230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelfay/pseuds/Aelfay
Summary: A Fandom Trumps Hate fic forDecepticonsensual.





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Decepticonsensual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/gifts).



> Sometimes stuff gets away from me. I started with a real simple prompt from [Decepticonsensual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/decepticonsensual) which then turned into a long fic which was mostly from V's POV. When I reached the scene I wrote the fic for in the first place, I realised I didn't like it from V's POV, which meant I rewrote it in Eddie's POV, which is what you get here. Maybe I'll finish the longer fic, eventually, but for now, here's some smut without all the plot.

They get home after a call on a lead that brings them across town to a place V wants to help a girl from the internet. Eddie’s still not sure how that works, but it doesn’t really matter, because it was worth it either way; three days later the girl’s safe and Eddie is riding the high of adrenaline and a job well done, stumbling through the front door  with a grin on his face that he can’t control. The line between himself and V has been blurring the entire time, and it’s easy to tumble into bed, shivering with an expectant smile.

**_The safewords, Eddie, we need-_** V prompts, and Eddie feels a thrill of pleasure as he realises V sounds as breathless as Eddie, even with his voice only in Eddie’s head.

“Red, yellow, green, like stoplights,” Eddie gasps, grinning at the ceiling, and V surges over him, a hungry feeling in their stomach, pounding through their chest, holding Eddie down. Eddie moans, fighting it only because he can, because it feels amazing to press up and know he’s not going to move. “Oh, fuck, this is going to be a lot.”

**_It is going to be everything, Eddie,_** V promises, and a shudder bounces between them, anticipation and adrenaline, and when V forms his head above Eddie, he surges up, straining against V’s hold on his limbs to kiss him hard, moaning. He can feel razor-sharp teeth leaving cuts that are soothed as soon as they’re made. V’s on the outside of their skin now, making them both groan, Eddie trembling as pleasure spins between them, ramping higher with every touch. **_“Mine,”_** V snarls, and Eddie arches up, gasping, because _yes, absolutely._

V presses him down, and the possessive gesture forces a strangled sound out of Eddie’s throat, leaving him helpless against the arousal singing through them both. He’s already sweating, already straining at the hold with pleasure, already hard and desperate, and he has _so many things he wants_ , but he can’t find the words. “In,” Eddie gasps, “In my head, get in my head, I want you to see.” He doesn’t normally let V in – wants his mind his own, but this is easier, he wants V to know the fantasies he’s been clinging to, and then V is _there,_ flipping through the filthy ideas in Eddie’s brain.

Eddie barely breathes, waiting, hoping: he doesn’t know if V wants that much, if he’ll be upset or disgusted – but then V kisses him wildly, a crash of teeth and tongue. Clothes are ripped off, and Eddie groans – that’s hot as hell – and sucks on the tip of V’s tongue desperately, hands clutching at V’s tendrils from where they’re pinned against the mattress. He’s so caught up in the kiss that when a tendril touches his arse, he jolts with a shock of arousal and a strangled, desperate noise.

“Oh shit. Shit, c’mon, yes,” he tries to say, but his mouth is full. It seems to get through to V, though, because a moment later it’s pressing in, and they’re arching, more, deeper—

**_Perfect,_** V purrs, fucking _purrs_ , they sound dazed and pleased and heady, and Eddie’s shaking, he doesn’t know when they started that, but the pull and press and pull is all he can manage to comprehend as V rumbles, **_“Show me. Tell me how much you like it.”_**

“So much,” Eddie gasps, “Fuck, man, don’t make me earn it—” because he’ll never be able to do that, he’s always failed at earning anything, he doesn’t deserve—

**_“You deserve_ everything _,”_** V snarls, a gnashing growl as he fucks Eddie so hard the bed shakes, pushing him up toward the headboard and then bracing them both with tendrils against it. **_“You deserve all of it. We are a hero, we are a badass, Eddie, and you will have_ all of it.”**

Eddie can’t protest because the breath is punched out of them with every thrust, and V seems obscenely pleased by that, his sharp grin toothy and shark-like above Eddie before he leans down again to devour Eddie’s mouth. Eddie’s unable to move away, not that he wants to, he wants to take it, everything V will give him. The bed’s creaking dangerously, and Eddie can feel his lungs aching between breaths like he’s run miles, invaded and taken and claimed. And yeah, it does make him feel badass, the bruises on his arms, the way he’s _taking_ it, the images of V, feral and untamed above and around him and in him. V’s his, and Eddie’s V’s, and they’re both Venom, together, and they’re a goddamn badass.

A hysterical laugh giggles off his lips as he has a split-second thought: what his father would think of him now, an alien up his ass and argumentatively the most dangerous creature in San Fran. If he knew that he was responsible for the fucked-up way Eddie’s mind translated bruises to love and that he was partially responsible for the fact that Eddie was goddamn loving this, _fuck, yes, more_ , because V had taken that fucked-up portion of his brain and made it _sing_ with something right, Brock Senior would likely have shit bricks.

**_Thinking too much,_** V snarls and Eddie moans on a gasp as he’s suddenly flung over, face pressed into the pillow.

“Fuck,” he sobs because V’s got something slick and tight as a mouth around their cock and is still inside Eddie, throbbing and thrusting with something like delight, something like ownership, something like centring them both further into themselves. Eddie can _feel_ it, which is truly indicative of how far they’ve blurred into each other, and he knows Venom can feel his response, the sobbing gasps into the pillow, want and need and joy.

**_Fuck indeed,_** V says with a wry chuckle in his _mind_ , and that shouldn’t be hot, but it makes his cock jump anyway as V continues. **_How long have you wanted this? I saw the pictures in your head. How long have you been thinking of us, fucked and fucking and raw?_**

Eddie can’t breathe. The word _raw_ in V’s growl may have short-circuited everything in his head. When he does manage to suck in a breath, V hits his prostate so perfectly the room swims and he automatically fights the tendrils holding him down, but he can’t, he can’t, and that threatens a second rush of dizziness. V doesn’t seem to mind that he’s not answering because he continues, pleasure ramping with every dragging thrust on their prostate, every stroke to their cock. **_I think you’ve wanted it since I said you were mine. Since I claimed you. I think you wanted to be bent over and_ owned.**

“No,” Eddie gasps, shaking his head, thrusting back against him with the little leverage he has, sucking in air. He feels V withdraw a little and grips the tendrils between his fingers, and growls out, “wanted to _have_. Wanted to _never be left again_. Wanted to _take_. Wanted to be able to handle anything you could goddamn spit at me—”

V’s next thrust breaks off his words as Eddie cries out because V’s giving him everything he can take, letting him have what he wants, assuring him without words that they’re never alone again. Eddie’s head is spinning again – it’s so good, _fuck_. He can hear V say in something like a growl, a mutter, a whisper in the back of their mind, **_You’re the only one who ever could take what we’ve become_** , and something like a bite (definitely not, because Eddie knows what V’s mouth is capable of, but damn if this doesn’t feel like teeth) clamps down on Eddie’s nape. He’s shaking apart, spilling a mess into the mass stroking his cock, clenching down helplessly on V in his ass.

By the time their head clears, V is a mushy goop puddle draped over Eddie, who’s still panting with half his face mashed into the pillow. They’re an odd combo of chilly and warm, because sweat’s cooling on the skin V’s not covering. Eddie nudges a thought at V to cover them, but V sends back a memory of a cat lounging in a sunbeam and Eddie knows V’s not going to move anytime soon. He chuckles hoarsely, managing to snag the pulled up edge of the sheets and tugging it over himself in a sheet-burrito because fuck it, the blankets are at his feet and that’s too much work.

**_Eddie,_** V says, and Eddie hums as V curls closer around his limbs like a particularly snuggly octopus. **_Eddie, I can make you feel badass more times._**

Eddie snorts and lets his fantasies flicker through his mind again. “Really? You think you can keep up?” he teases, voice sounding like a garbage disposal, and V nudges his cheek with a sassy tendril. Eddie smooches it and snuggles up further into his blanket. Sheet. Whatever.

**_I love us, Eddie,_** V says, and it brings a lump to Eddie’s throat, and he looks down to make sure the bruises are still there, twisting stripes over his skin, proof deeper than words that everything just happened. He brushes a finger over one, smiling a little: V loves _them_ , together. Not just Eddie, not himself, but who they are, what they make each other. Good. Eddie doesn’t trust anything else.

“I love us too, V,” he whispers, closing his eyes, and V hums contentedly in his head, the mental equivalent of a yawn, and they both drift off to sleep.

 


End file.
